I sometimes wonder if the ghosts of yesterday replay. Does each memory, each moment we experience, replay itself ceaselessly? Do we have ghosts of our memories walking down the streets through us, with us? What about the memories from before our time? Does time ever truly pass, or are we just a motion, memory, moment replaying itself, ignorant to the fact that we really aren’t experiencing this for the first time, but for the hundredth. What if this is why we feel that sensation that we’ve been here before, done this before. I’ve seen you smile here, in this moment, this lighting, this room, at this time and particular moment before I reached it.
How silly my thoughts can be.
P.S. Photo found on flickr.